Nic had a flash of Chief Watkins with that prostitute, pushing her out of the truck. Calling her a cheap whore.
The dark gray pickup truck.
“And what is it he does?” Nic asked.
Kurt stepped back, threw his hands in the air. “Doesn’t matter. He helps kids, right? He helped Reyes. They run the town. The cops with their authority. And Roger Booth with his money. People like me working two, three jobs. I just left the Gas n’ Go after an all-nighter—and now I’m here. It’s all a fucking joke. Because this town’s a fucking joke.”
Nic didn’t respond. These were relationships that went back many years. Kurt had wanted to get out but got stuck here. Booth lost the love of his life. Reyes lost his future to a horrible misfortune and now had to be grateful for the scraps Watkins threw his way. And Watkins—Nic couldn’t even begin to unravel him.
Her phone rang.
“Excuse me a second.”
It was her father’s number. She closed her eyes, shook her head. She didn’t want to deal with this now.
“Hey, Dad,” she said.
He did not return the greeting.
“Where are you right now?” he asked.
“Back at the inn. I was about to go upstairs,” she lied. She didn’t want to explain why she was at the bar at eleven a.m. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sending you a photo. It’s from Mark.”
Mark—the PI her father had hired.
“Did he find her?” The world stopped for one short moment.
“No, no—I’m sorry, I should have explained this better. I had him look into that woman, Edith Moore. It’s just too strange that she waited this long to come forward.”
Nic had been so preoccupied with Chief Watkins and Daisy Hollander, Reyes and Booth and Kurt Kent, she had nearly forgotten about Edith Moore and the lie she’d told about having been in New York.
“Listen—she met with a man in the parking lot of the hospital where she works as a nurse. I couldn’t place him, but I swear he looks familiar. Like someone we met in Hastings. Schenectady is a long way to go for a visit in a parking lot.”
Nic felt a shiver.
“Can you send it?”
“I just did. Put me on speaker. I don’t want to lose you.”
Nic hit the speaker button, then opened the text from her father. She could easily make out Edith Moore. The other figure was slightly hidden behind her, but she had no trouble making him out either. He was unmistakable.
No…
“Nic? Did you get it?”
Nic took the phone off speaker and held it to her ear. She smiled and slid down from the bar stool. Her cheeks were trembling.
“Do you know who it is?” her father asked.
She held her hand over the receiver as she started to walk toward the door. Kurt was watching her carefully, curious now.
“I have to go—something back home,” she said to him.
But he didn’t believe her. She could tell by the expression that didn’t change.
“Nicole!” her father said again in the phone, pleading with her to answer.
